The Darkness Did Not Prevail
by Loopylou
Summary: Kensi and Deeks are sent undercover as a married couple to infiltrate a cult that is recruiting military personal. Set after my story 'Of Things Broken.'
1. Chapter 1

Author's note-

Well, I promised everyone a new story, and here it is. :) It should have been up last week, but work and a stinking cold have kept me from working on it.

Hope you enjoy this. :)

Lou

The Darkness Did Not Prevail 

Chapter One

Smog coated the city in a thin, gauzy layer. Deeks barely noticed it as he drove, slowing for a red light. His eyes dropped to the thin, white scar on his wrist. It had almost become familiar after two long months. The skin paled even more as he flexed his wrist, thankful that the long scar was the only permanent damage from the attack that had almost cost him his life.

The car behind him honked its horn. Startled, he looked up, hitting the gas as he realised that the light was on green. He made it through the intersection and reached over, thumbing the radio on. A perky female voice read out the news headlines. He listened with half an ear as he made another turn, pulling neatly to a halt in front of a white painted coffee shop.

_She's going to kill me for being late, _he thought as he picked up the duffle bag laying on the passenger seat and slid out of the pick up truck, scanning the faces around him from long habit. He hummed a wordless tune as he walked towards the entrance, eyebrows lifting as he spotted the person he was looking for.

Kensi smiled at him as she stood up, reaching over to pick up the paper cups of coffee from the table. She wore dark blue jeans and a plain white shirt that showed off her light tan. Her hair was pulled up into a simple braid that hung thickly down her back.

"You're late," she said and pressed a cup into his hand, dropping a wrapped pecan brownie on top of it.

"I know, sorry." His lips twitched as he closed his hand over the chocolate brownie, tucking it into his pocket. He swallowed a mouthful of the rich coffee, wincing as it burned his tongue. "Had some things that I needed to take care of," he said simply, eyes dropping to his wrist again. "The doc gave me the all clear to come back to work full time."

"That's great news," she said, and smiled widely, a teasing sparkle coming into her eyes. "We all thought that you were going to stay off for as long as you could."

He lifted his eyebrow as he settled into a booth with her, fishing the brownie out of his pocket to unwrap it. "And miss your wonderful company?" He huffed a breath. "Not likely, princess."

She just shook her head, fiddling with the sugar packets. "My last day of freedom for God knows how long, and I have to put up you."

A waitress bustled past, coffee cups clanking in her hands. Her short skirt showed off long, lean legs that would have normally drawn Deeks' attention like a bee to a honey pot.

He barely even noticed her. All of his attention was fixed on the woman sitting across from him. "Nervous?" he asked, and sipped his coffee, giving her time to answer.

Hands stilling, she looked up, meeting his eyes for a split second before looking away. "Were you nervous before your first deep cover?" she asked slowly.

A flush covered her cheeks. Deeks couldn't decide if it was from the intimacy of the question or if she was ashamed for being nervous. _A little of both, _he decided, studying her covertly.

"You bet I was." He laughed, nodding. "Spent the night before chucking my guts up in a seedy hotel. I looked like death the next day, but the cover worked out fine."

She shifted and twirled her coffee in her hands, sloshing the drink around the cup. "Callen and Sam go under with no problems…" she shrugged. "I just hate…"

"Lying to people," he finished gently, and pushed a sugar packet back across the plastic table towards her. "Then why did you chose this job?"

"Because I'm damn good at it," she said, chin lifting with unconscious pride.

"Then you'll be fine." He smiled, then turned serious. "Shall we get this show on the road?"

She stood and drained the last of her coffee. "Let's do it, partner."

He held the door open for her as they left the coffee shop, watching her face change with quiet amusement as she spotted the car they were going to be driving. The old truck had once been blue, but time and sad neglect had faded the paint to dull grey. Large rust spots marked the wheel arches, creeping up the body in a slow war. Dents littered the bodywork.

She let her eyes run along the truck's battered sides, then shook her head and met Deeks' eyes. "What the hell is this?"

He threw her the keys and smiled. "Hetty asked me to pick it up. The engine's sound, even if the body looks like someone drove over it in tank."

She shook the keys out, finding the truck key easily, and opened the door. The smell of damp fabric, spoiled food and dirt wafted out. "Did something die in here?" she asked as she slid behind the wheel and adjusted the seat.

"Not the last owner," Deeks said and slammed the door, wincing when the truck rattled ominously. "He's in County jail for the next five years. LAPD caught him with his pockets full of drugs."

"Are you sure?" Kensi asked as she started the engine and merged into the light traffic, letting the familiar act of driving calm her nerves.

_Just like he expected, I bet_, she thought wryly. _Damn man can read me like a book. _The thought should have annoyed it, but for some reason, she found it perversely comforting.

"Pretty sure," Deeks murmured, the banter calming the butterflies churning in his stomach. "We can check under the seats later though." He reached forward and opened the glove box, closing it quickly as assorted food wrappers threatened to spill out. "On second thought, maybe not."

She shot him a glance as she turned left, making a loop to check for tails. Five minutes later, she rejoined the main road, satisfied that no-one was following them.

"Nervous?" she asked.

Deeks blinked, caught staring out of the window at the passing city, and nodded. "Little bit." A sad, wry smile touched his lips for a second before fading away. "My last deep cover didn't really work out so well," he added softly.

The image of a car exploding into a deadly fireball filled her mind, replaced by one of her partner, hurt and furious, grinding a gun into the chest of someone he had trusted with his life. Someone who had betrayed him in the most awful way. Someone who had killed a person he had cared deeply about.

"I guess not," she murmured, lost for words, and shivered, despite the heat.

He tapped his fingers on the dashboard. "Don't worry, Fern. I trust Hetty a hell of a lot more than I trusted that bastard."

She pulled into the Mission's car park and parked the truck. "It wasn't your fault," she said.

"I know." He flashed a pained smile. "I keep telling myself that," he said and shrugged. "Maybe one day I'll actually believe it."

Unhappily, she followed him into the building, hoping that this operation would give them something to be proud of doing. By the time she reached the door, he had his trademark smile fixed on his face, hiding the hurt lurking just beneath it. She copied him, wrestling her own smile into place as she followed him to their desks.

Sam and Callen were already there. Sam had a pile of paperwork spread in front of him and was quietly filling it in. Callen's was stacked in the out tray, brightly coloured sticky notes adorning the pile.

Deeks tapped it with his fingers as he walked past. "Who'd you pay and how much?" he asked, dropping his bag onto his own desk.

Callen looked up from his newspaper lazily and lifted an eyebrow. "Maybe I did it myself."

They all stared at him. "G, you hate paperwork," Sam said after a long second. "Hetty practically has to tie you to your desk to make you do it."

Deeks eyed his own paperwork with similar dislike, then sighed and reached for the first folder. "Just be glad that you don't work for LAPD." He signed his name on a sheet and flipped to the next page. "They go through a minor forest of paper every day. We have to fill everything out in triplicate."

He looked up, amusement quirking his lips at the look of horror on Callen and Kensi's faces.

"Is Hetty in yet?" Kensi asked and dumped a folder into the out tray.

"I don't think she leaves," Callen muttered and picked up his newspaper again, shaking it out to read the sports section.

"I heard that, Mr Callen," Hetty said.

He looked up quickly, a guilty expression flashing across his face. "Hetty, you know…" he started.

She shook her head and walked into the space between their desks. "Now is not the time, Mr. Callen," she said simply. "Our contact from Interpol just arrived. I want you all to join us in the ops room immediately."

She walked away without waiting for an answer, clearly expecting them to all follow her.

Callen stood first, escaping from behind the desk with a sense of relief. Sam tided his paperwork and followed him, leaving Kensi and Deeks alone for a moment. He met her eyes, relieved to see nothing but steady, calm interest in them, almost hiding a tiny sparkle of excitement.

Deeks dropped his last folder into his out tray and stood. "Showtime, boys and girls," he said to himself, and shook his head, following the rest of his team up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The large screen showed pictures of a mangled car. The twisted metal was blackened and scorched, soot staining the ground beneath it. A sturdy tree held it at an angle to the steep hillside, stopping the vehicle from rolling any further.

"What happened?" Kensi asked. She leaned against the large table, hands tucked loosely into her pockets.

Deeks stood next to her, resting his hands on the edge of the table. Callen and Sam were at the other side of the large room. Both of them had their gaze fixed on the screen.

Nell stepped forward, bringing a picture up on the screen. "This is petty officer Larry Sanderson. His senior officer reported him AWOL almost four weeks ago when he failed to turn up for work. LAPD found his car this morning. There was a body in the driver's seat. Forensics are working on an identity."

"And?" Callen prompted softly.

The doors slid open. They all turned as a tall, blonde woman walked in. She looked tired, and her pale linen suit was creased. She held a walking stick in one hand and leaned on it heavily. Her left knee was tightly wrapped in a brace.

"That's where I come in." She slowly made her way to a seat and lowered herself into it, ignoring the curious looks the team were giving her. "Sorry to keep you all waiting. I'm Detective Amy Smith. I work for Interpol. We have good reason to believe that petty officer Sanderson was part of a cult," she said in a clipped British accent.

"A cult?" Deeks asked, leaning on the large table. He laced his fingers together in front of him. "What sort of cult? The wacky let's all live in the hills and live on berries kind of cult or the scary post apocalyptic kind of cult?"

She shot him a look that could have melted glass and continued talking as if he hadn't interrupted. "A cult that is responsible for smuggling weapons and drugs into the United States from Europe. That's why I'm here." She stood and limped across to Eric, handing him a flash drive. "This is the information we have on them so far."

With a quick rattle or keys, Eric brought the files up on the screen, enlarging one when she pointed at it.

Nell scanned the information, a frown appearing on her face as the words sank in. "Looks like they recruit dissatisfied military personal from all over the world. There have been sightings of their leader in at least five countries within the past year."

"Her name is Sabine Kail. We don't have much information on her, but we do know that she was born in England. She was in the Royal Navy for five years, and was discharged due to an injury. After that, she's harder to track. We think she moved to Russia and Cuba for a few years before coming over to the United States."

Callen frowned. "Do you know where she is now?"

"No." Amy shook her head. "Our last sighting of her was in a hotel in New York shortly before Christmas. No sightings since. We've flagged all of her known aliases but there have been no hits."

Kensi studied the information on the screen. "How are they getting the guns and drugs into the country?"

Amy shrugged. "Sabine is a very wealthy woman- the accounts that we've frozen hold almost thirty million pounds. She's likely bribing boarder officials not to look in her shipments. We found records of her bringing medical supplies across the Mexican boarder, but it looks like no-one actually verified what was in the containers."

"Tell us more about the cult," Sam asked. "What do you have on them?"

"They have a camp in the Los Padres National Forest. We believe that they're using it as a staging point for their drug and gun running operations." She sighed, frown lines creeping onto her face. "At last check, there was twenty people living there. Three of them were AWOL US military staff, including Larry Sanderson. They're well armed, and willing to defend themselves against intruders."

"Why are we going undercover now?" Deeks asked quietly.

Amy closed her eyes for a long second, opening them again to look around at the team. "We have a person of interest in our cells. He's willing to trade information in return for a lighter jail term." She crossed slowly to the screen and opened a folder, dragging the pictures out into plain view. "In twenty four hours, we either have to charge him or let him go. Seems like the right time."

Sam crossed his arms. "Are you sure he can get us in?"

She turned too quickly and flinched as it jarred her injured knee. "Yes. His information checks out. We just needed a team to send in."

Hetty stepped forward. "Mr. Deeks and Ms. Blye will be working this operation. I need you to fully brief them while Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna put the physical aspects into place."

Amy nodded. "Of course, Hetty."

Deeks studied her face, instincts telling him that she was holding back. "What aren't you telling us?" he asked bluntly, matching her stare evenly.

She backed down first, looking away in the guise of checking the screen.

"We sent an undercover team in six months ago. They were burned. Two people died… and the third barely escaped with her life." She enlarged a picture on the screen and walked away, leaving them all staring at her battered face.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Everyone seemed to freeze, eyes fixed on the awful picture that dominated the screen. It showed Detective Smith laid in a hospital bed. One eye was badly bruised and swollen shut. The other was closed, sooty eyelashes resting on a cheek that was covered in a stark white bandage. Her lip was split, dark stitches standing out against her pale skin. More stitches held her eyebrow together, edging up into her hairline.

Deeks swallowed hard. "They were brutal," he said simply and snuck a glance at Kensi. She looked pale, but composed, lips pressed firmly together.

Hetty recovered first. She shook her head, eyes fixed on the view screen. "It can happen to any of us, on any operation. You all know the risks that we take. She survived," she said briskly. "Ms. Blye, Mr. Deeks. I want you with Ms. Smith. She has valuable intel that you need to know."

"On it," Kensi said and headed out of the room.

Deeks nodded. "Yes, Hetty," he murmured and followed Kensi out of the door.

"Mr. Callen, Mr. Hanna. I want you to work with Ms. Jones and Mr. Beal to backstop this operation." She walked to the door and paused, turning back. "Only the best will do. They burned one team already. I do not want it to happen again."

"Understood," Callen said.

He knew the risks and had accepted them as part of the job, but the picture had still unsettled him. They were all damn good at what they did- the best in the business, even- but even so, it would only take one tiny mistake, one small crack in a back story for everything to come crashing down around them. _I do not want to see another member of my team in a hospital bed__…__ or worse, _he thought fiercely.

The door slid closed behind her. Nell turned back to her computer screen, elbowing Eric lightly until he copied her. He typed while she brought up the files, reading the information carefully. There was useful intel in the dry reports, and she knew that she had the best chance of finding it. Eric brought up his own database and filled in the basic information, using it as a base for the more complicated details.

Callen exchanged glances with Sam. "What do you think of the detective?"

Sam shrugged. "Too early to tell. She really wasn't what I was expecting though."

Callen crossed to the screen and brought up one of the reports. "Yeah? What were you expecting?" he asked absently, attention fixed on the words in front of him. Something caught his eye. "Hey, Sam. Come here and take a look at this."

Sam walked over to his partner's side. "What am I looking at?" His eyes flickered as he read over the reports. Most were typed, but one or two had been handwritten in small, hurried letters that were hard to read.

Callen traced a line under the information that had caught is attention. "Petty officer Sanderson was injured on a tour of duty and was sent back to the States to recover. He spent a month in a medical centre. Looks like it was about that time he decided to go AWOL, because he vanished three days after he was discharged."

"What are you thinking, G?" Sam asked. He crossed his arms, eyes flickering over the few photographs on the screen. Most showed well armed, well muscled men dressed in navy blue fatigues. All of them had the same dead look in their eyes.

The other man flexed his hands, pacing a slow line across the open space as he thought. "What if one of the medical staff is involved in the cult? They could have brought him over. He was hurt. It would have been the ideal time to convert someone."

Sam nodded slowly. "They are in the right place. Lots of depressed, unhappy people in the infirmary."

They exchanged quick glances, the rush of a new case taking hold of them ever so gently. The first few days of any case were always the same- a whirlwind of new information, new leads and adrenaline.

"Eric," Callen called. "I need you to check backgrounds on all of the medical staff that cared for Sanderson after his injury. Start with the most recent, within six months, then work back if you don't get any hits."

Eric nodded, fingers already flying on the keyboard. "I'm on it."

Sam turned to Nell. "Does Sanderson have any family?"

The petite woman tilted her head, then typed a quick query and read the results. "Looks like it's just his parents and a younger brother. I'll send their details to your phones."

Sam smiled and reached into his pocket as his phone beeped. "Nice work, Nell."

She flushed and dropped her gaze, smiling a little. "Thank you."

"I'll drive," Callen said, already on his way to the door.

Sam shook his head and followed him "I wanna get there today, G."

"Then it's a good thing that I'm driving," Callen joked back and jogged down the stairs, mind already running over the upcoming interviews. He had a feeling they weren't going to be simple.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note-

There are some very dark themes in this chapter. Please be warned, and don't read if mention of extreme violence is likely to upset you.

(Also, thank you all so much for the reviews. If you're lurking out there, then I'd love to hear what you think of this so far. ;) )

Lou

Chapter Four

They found Detective Smith downstairs in the lounge area, making herself a cup of tea. All of them pretended not to notice how badly she was shaking. She dumped the tea bag into the bin and turned, leaning back against the cabinet. Her walking stick rested next to her, a silent testimony to what she had been through.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head and picked up the cup, limping across to the leather couch. "That wasn't very professional of me. It won't happen again."

Kensi sat down across from her on one of the chairs and crossed her legs. "After what you've been though, I think you're entitled," she said softly. She leaned forward, resting her head on one hand.

Deeks slipped past them, crossing to the cabinet to fix two cups of coffee. The pot was almost empty. He filled two cups, then started a new pot, knowing better than to leave it empty. He'd endured the wrath of Kensi once, and that had been more than enough. Brewing coffee scented the air as he brought the cups back to the couch and handed one to his partner before taking a seat.

Amy shifted so that she could see them both. Her hands were curled protectively around the cup, but she wasn't drinking. Steam rose in gentle waves from the tea.

"I suppose that you want to know all of the gory details," she said flatly and started talking before either of them could speak. "My team and I were sent into a camp that the cult had in England to track down the drugs they were trafficking. We were there for six days before everything started to go wrong. The leader of the camp- a nasty little bastard called Irvin Steele- caught my partner sending a coded message. He dragged my partner into the main camp and beat him half to death with wooden clubs." Tears flooded her eyes. She sucked in a shaky breath and wiped them away with the back of her hand. "They kept asking him questions, but he didn't answer." She shook her head slowly, eyes filled with sorrow. "I don't think that he could have if he'd wanted to. The bastards broke his jaw."

She stopped talking, lifting the tea cup to her mouth and blowing on it, giving herself time to gather her composure. Her shoulders slumped. She looked pale, and tired.

Kensi glanced at Deeks, wondering if she had the same horrified expression on her face. "What happened next?" she asked softly.

Amy laughed bleakly. "They tied him to a tree and made him watch while they did the same to me. I tried to keep them distracted so that Matt… my partner and Owen could escape but they didn't get chance. Bastards let them run half a mile through the woods before they brought them back. I watched them walk into the compound at gun point and knew that something awful was going to happen."

Her hand clenched around the couch cushion. The shakes had returned, racking her body like tiny earthquakes. Tea sloshed onto her hand. She didn't seem to notice the liquid.

"You don't have to tell us this now," Deeks offered. "Take a break. It'll keep for a while."

She shook her head, eyes blazing with wild anger. "Yes. I do. If I stop… if I stop, I don't think I'll be able to start again."

Deeks nodded. He'd had the same feeling a few times in his life, and no matter how painful, getting everything out into the open had made him feel better. "What happened after they brought your team back into the camp?"

"They threw us all into a hut overnight and left us there with no food or water. Just locked the door and walked away." She shuddered at the memories. "We were all badly hurt, and the hut had no windows so all we could do way lay there and wait for them to come back. I still had my watch, so I kept checking the time. They left us there for almost a day before they came back and dragged the men out."

She passed the cup to Deeks and stood, reaching blindly for her walking stick, knowing that she couldn't tell the next part sitting down, regardless of how much walking hurt. It was too much, and she needed to be on her feet, needed to move if she was going to tell the end of the story.

"They took us back to the central space. Steele tied my team to two poles on the edges of the fire and told me that I had a choice. I could tell him everything I knew, and save my team, or keep my mouth closed and let them burn alive."

"What did you do?" Kensi asked softly.

Amy shrugged, an stiff, awkward movement. "What could I do? I made information up, based on what we knew about them." Tears spilled from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "It didn't work. The bastard burned them alive anyway."

Kensi sucked in a shocked breath, hands clenching around her cup. "Jesus…" She blinked, shaking her head as the enormity of the act slowly sunk in to her mind.

Deeks fought back a shudder, trying to ignore the sudden chill racing through him. "Bastards," he cursed softly, knowing that no words could ever come close to describing the vileness of some people. He'd only met a handful of people who truly didn't deserve to live, and he had a feeling that the leaders of the cult would shortly be getting added to the list.

Amy turned and looked back at them. Mid-morning light streamed in the window behind her, highlighting her in a golden glow. "If you catch them, don't bring them back alive," she said slowly. "Kill every last one of the bastards and make sure they suffer."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note-

Sorry that this is late. I was planning on having more than one chapter up today, but life kinda caught up with me. (I fainted at work. Scared the hell out of my boss. Just stood up, and boom, back on the floor.) I'm fine- it's an after effect of this stupid cold. Just meant that I didn't get as much writing done as I planned.

Lou

Chapter Five

Callen parked the car outside of the small, freshly painted house. The siding was white, with a cheerful yellow trim. A well tended patch of garden ran down to the road. Brightly coloured flowers bloomed in large ceramic planters. Pink roses climbed up a trellis by the door. A red Ford sat on the driveway. The paint gleamed with good care.

"Looks like a happy home," Callen said dryly and opened his door, stopping with one leg out of the car when Sam's phone rang. "According to Nell, the car belongs to his parents. I guess they're home."

Sam answered his phone. "Yes, Eric?" He thumbed the speaker button and held the cell phone flat on his hand so Callen could hear the conversation too. The line cracked a little as the reception dropped.

The tech cleared his throat. "The coroner just confirmed that the body in the car was petty officer Sanderson. The dental records match. There's no doubt that it's Sanderson."

"Do we have any idea what happened to his car yet?" Callen asked. "It seems strange for him to be so far out of the city."

"LAPD are maintaining that he lost control and rolled off the road, but the preliminary reports from our lab seem to suggest that the car's brakes had been tampered with. At high speed, on a bend like that, he had no chance of staying on the road." Eric typed something, the rattle of keys sounding strangely hollow down the phone line. "The car lab also thinks that there was some kind of accelerant in the trunk. That's why there was so much burning. They're running more tests to narrow it down."

"Thanks, Eric." Sam said. "Keep us updated if anything changes."

"Will do," the tech said and ended the call.

Sam glanced at Callen. "Maybe not such a happy home once we tell them their son is dead," he muttered.

Callen shook his head. "No. Let's hope that this turns up something useful."

He stood and slammed the car door behind him, checking his gun with one hand. A few clouds rolled over the sun. A breeze picked up, fitfully blowing the flowers about. It lowered the temperature. Callen shivered and glanced at the sky._ It'll rain later, _he thought.

Sam joined him. They walked up the driveway together. The air was heavy with the scent of flowers. Callen laid a hand on the car's hood, finding it cold to the touch. No-one had driven it for a while. He pulled his badge out of his pocket and knocked on the door. Frosted glass filled the window. It reduced everything inside of the hall to random shapes and smears of colour.

It took a moment before they heard approaching footsteps. The door opened a few inches and stopped, held by a security chain.

"Yes?" an older, grey haired woman asked. She was short, and slight, but her eyes were alive with intelligence. "Can I help you?"

"Ma'am," Sam showed her his badge. "I'm Agent Hanna, this is Agent Callen. We're with NCIS."

Her eyes fluttered closed. One hand clenched in her sleeve. "Is this about Larry?" Her voice came out choked. "I knew that he was in trouble."

"Ma'am, can we talk inside?" Callen asked.

She closed the door and slid the chain off, then re-opened it. "Come in. My husband is in the kitchen." She turned without a word and led them through the house.

Cheerful rugs dotted the dark hardwood floor. The walls were pale, hung with photographs that showed a happy family. Callen paused to get a closer look at one. It showed Sanderson graduating from high school. He was pale and thin, with an unsure smile that showed off his braces. Glasses covered his bright blue eyes. _The perfect target for bullies,_ Callen thought. _Wonder if that had anything to do with him joining up._

They reached the kitchen. A wheelchair bound man looked up at them. Newspaper covered the table, protecting it from the model ships he was painting.

"Paul, these men are NCIS agents. They're here to speak to us about Larry," Mrs. Sanderson said and laid her hand on her husband's shoulder.

"He's dead, isn't he, Mary?" He dropped the paintbrush and reached up, squeezing her hand. "Please, sit down," he said to Callen and Sam.

They sat at the table. "I'm very sorry to have to tell you that your son is dead. He crashed his car in the early hours of the morning. It's likely that he died on impact. We feel that he didn't suffer," Callen said. "I know that this is a difficult time for you, but we have some questions that we need answering."

Paul blinked tears from his eyes. "Damn it. I knew he was going to end up dead, what with that gang he was hanging about with." He said hoarsely. He reached up and grabbed his wife's hand. "Sit down, love," he added in a low voice.

She sank blindly into a seat. Her hands trembled as she lifted them to her face, wiping away tears. "Every since he got hurt, he'd been different. Moody… not himself."

"When was the last time that you saw your son?" Sam asked.

"The day before he was reported as being AWOL." Paul said. "We'd been up to visit him in the infirmary, take him some clean clothes. He seemed pre-occupied, but we both put it down to him wanting to be out of there."

"Do you know anything about a group called ALF?"

Paul nodded. "I tried to talk him out of joining them. I had a feeling that no good would come from it."

Mary wrapped her arms tightly around herself. "One of them picked him up from here a few months ago… awful, cold man. He had a strange name… Stone… ah, no. Steele. He scared me."

Sam and Callen exchanged glances. "Ma'am, if he comes back, I want you to phone this number right away." He slid his card across the table. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

Paul snapped the lid on a pot of paint then looked up. "Larry had just started dating a woman when he was injured. Her name was Sabine."


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note-

Sorry I kept you waiting for so long for this chapter. I got caught up in something important at work and it meant that I didn't have much time to write. It doesn't help that my stinking cold had come back. Anyone have a cure? ;)

I know that this story is starting off slowly- please bear with me. I promise that the pace will pick up soon. I just need to set everything up first.

What do you all think of Amy? I haven't had much feedback on her and I'm curious.

Thank you for bearing with me,

Lou

Chapter Six

Shots rang through the air, filling the room with the scent of burned gunpowder and heated metal. Deeks fired one more shot and clicked the safety on his gun, reaching up to remove his ear defenders with the other hand. He laid them on the shelf in front of him, tucking the safety glasses neatly next to them.

The door opened behind him. He turned, already half knowing who was going to be standing in the doorway. One eyebrow lifted in quiet amusement as his hunch turned out to be right.

"Mr. Deeks," Hetty said, a greeting and a question rolled into a few short words.

"Hetty," he answered and turned back to recall his target.

The winch whirred as he held the button to bring the target back. It only took a few seconds to reach him. He unclipped it and laid it onto the work surface in front of him. The card felt stiff and rough under his fingers. Neatly clustered bullet holes had all but obliterated the target's chest. Muted blue light shone through the torn card. He grunted in satisfaction and clipped a fresh target to the hanger.

Hetty crossed to his side to examine the target laid in front of him. "Nice shooting," she said. "All kill shots."

"Thank you," Deeks said, and slid his gun back into its holster, flipping his shirt over it.

"Where is Detective Smith?" Hetty asked. Something in her voice told him that she already knew the answer.

"Kensi took her to lunch," Deeks said and moved towards the door. He reached past Hetty and opened it. They walked along the narrow hallway in comfortable silence for a few steps. "She told us everything that she found out about the cult."

It had been a harrowing few hours, listing to the raw pain in her voice and knowing that nothing he did would ease it. Capture the bad guys- kill the bad guys. It didn't matter- nothing would magically take the memories from her mind. _I guess cold comfort is some sort of comfort, _he thought.

Hetty stopped walking and tilted her head back to meet his eyes. "You're not doing this for Detective Smith, Mr. Deeks. You're doing it to stop them from doing the same thing to anyone else."

Deeks leaned back against the wall, shifting a little as his gun dug painfully into his spine. He shoved his hands into his pockets and toyed with a coin.

"You knew her before this op, didn't you?" he asked slowly.

"Yes." Hetty nodded. "We met in London, just under five years ago. She saved my agent's life. My recommendation got her the position in Interpol. Does it matter, Mr. Deeks?"

He shook his head. "No, not at all." He met her eyes. "Are we doing this op because of her?" he asked honestly.

"No," she said slowly. "We are doing this operation because the cult is targeting and perhaps killing Navy and Marine personnel. Detective Smith is a useful source of intel and I am glad that she accepted my invitation to come here." She paused. "I've found that it pays to keep personal feelings out of operations." Her voice was heavy and soft, filled with unsaid things.

"You're worried about this, aren't you?" he pressed gently, knowing he was treading on thin ice.

"Yes, Mr. Deeks," she admitted candidly. "I do tend to worry when I'm sending my agents into a dangerous situation."

His lips parted in surprise. _I never expected her to admit that,_ he thought and fished for something to say. "We'll pull out at the first sign of trouble."

She sighed and shook her head. "Sometimes, it's not as simple as that."

He lifted his eyebrows. "That is true," he muttered.

Without another word, she turned and started to walk away. He watched her go, emotions swirling inside of him in such an complicated mix that he couldn't even begin to figure them out. It threatened to give him a headache. He rubbed his neck with one hand.

She stopped just before the door that opened back into the bullpen. "Mr. Beal is almost finished with your new identities. We'll meet in Ops in thirty minutes to go over your covers."

"Hetty," he called softly as she opened the door.

"Yes, Mr. Deeks?" she asked without turning.

The words that he wanted to say stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard and rubbed his face with one hand. "We'll make them pay, Hetty," he said softly, not surprised to see her shoulders twitch.

"Making them pay is not why we do this job, Mr. Deeks," she warned softly. "Get in, find enough evidence to prove them guilty in a court of law, and then get out. I don't want to lose another agent." Her voice held soft warning and the echo of a memory she had no plans to share.

He nodded, stomach rolling a little bit as he thought about what he'd learned. The group they were going to infiltrate was dangerous, but that was true of any undercover job. It was the sheer cruelty that they were capable of that left him cold, made him glad of the gun pressing against his back. In all his years as a cop, he had rarely come across a group of people capable- and willing to use- such horrible acts. He shivered, and tried to cover it with a little laugh.

"That's the plan, Hetty," he assured her. "Don't forget, we're the best in this business," he added, trying hard for levity.

"Are you better than the team Interpol put together?" she asked and opened the door.

The muted office noises filtered in. They seemed loud and intrusive after the artificial quiet.

"Let's hope so," he said quietly as he watched her walk away. "Let's hope so."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

The ops room was quiet and still. Tension swirled though the air like the moment before the storm hits- the false quiet that lulled you into thinking that everything was alright. It felt like the building was holding its breath, waiting for things to start happening so that it could exhale.

They all knew better. It showed in their tense posture, in their quiet, reserved voices as they waited for the meeting to start. Sam showed it the least, falling back onto his military training and using it hard. His eyes flickered over the group, then moved to the screen, gaze turning focused as he memorized the information displayed there.

Deeks fiddled with a silver pen, turning it over and over in his hands until Kensi reached over and laid her hands over his, stopping the repetitive movement.

He glanced at her, sheepish. "Sorry," he muttered and slid his hands into his pockets, fighting the urge to move, to do _something_ other than just stand still. He'd never been good at waiting. It was one of the reasons why he'd become an undercover cop. The rush of being in deep let him empty his mind for awhile.

Kensi handed him the pen back, a tiny, taut smile on her lips. He took it, feeling the warmth of her skin against his fingers for a second, and laid it on the lighted table in front of him, resting one hand over it. She lifted an eyebrow, understanding him more than he would ever know.

She looked pale and nervous. The waiting was the worst part for her too. She knew that her nerves would disappear once the operation got underway, but for the moment, it felt like her stomach was filled with butterflies wearing heavy boots. The two cups of coffee she'd drank at lunch didn't help. The caffeine made her feel jittery and a little bit nauseous.

Amy sat quietly on a chair by the large table. Her hands were wrapped so tightly around her walking stick that her knuckles showed bone white through her skin. Out of all of the, she looked the most nervous, almost scared. There wasn't one of them in the room that would fault her for it. They all understood the look in her eyes. What had happened to her could happen to them, if their luck ran out or they got sloppy.

Callen stood in front of the large screen, eyes fixed on the case files there. Eric had added new information from the car lab. Sterile pictures of the wrecked vehicle lined the bottom of the screen. Somehow, the damage looked worse inside of the brightly lit building.

"Why did they tamper with his brake lines?" Callen asked the group at large.

They all turned to him, grateful of the distraction. He scanned faces, relieved to see most of the nervousness vanish. The little that remained didn't bother him- it kept you sharp… kept you careful and alive.

Kensi spread her hands. "Maybe he was thinking about leaving and they found out."

Callen nodded. "Maybe," he agreed.

"No," Amy said and shook her head. "It doesn't fit with what we know about the group." She stood awkwardly and moved over to the centre of the room. "If they knew he was thinking about leaving, they would never have let him out of the camp." She shrugged. "More than likely, he'd have ended up in a shallow grave somewhere missing the back of his head."

"So what does that leave us with?" Deeks asked. "Is the car lab one hundred percent sure that the brakes were tampered with?"

Sam nodded. "I know the woman who runs the car lab. She'd never tell something if she wasn't completely sure."

Deeks nodded. It was the answer he'd expected. "It would be helpful if we knew where he'd been, or where he was going."

Eric spoke up for the first time. "I'm running a search of traffic and ATM cams for five miles around the site of the crash. Nothing's popped yet, but I'll keep looking."

Deeks rubbed the back of his neck. "That doesn't mean much. There are lots of fire roads in that area." He shrugged. "No cams on those. He could have driven along them for hours, and we wouldn't know."

"What if Sanderson wasn't supposed to be driving the car?" Kensi asked. "What if the person who tampered with the brake lines thought that someone else would be driving it?"

Callen nodded. "That's a good theory, Kensi. Sam and I will run it down while you and Deeks learn your covers."

The doors slid open. Hetty stepped into the room, a troubled look on her face. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I was clearing up some details with Director Vance. Where are we at?"

Callen turned towards her. "Tossing around ideas about petty officer Sanderson's death.

"And what have you come up with so far?"

"We think that Sanderson may not have been the target. Kensi has a theory that he wasn't supposed to be driving the car at the time."

Hetty tilted her head, considering the idea. "Based on what?"

"Based on the idea that they'd never have let him out of the camp if Steele thought he was thinking about leaving the cult. Steel would have just shot Sanderson and dumped the body," Amy said.

"So who was supposed to be driving the car?" Hetty asked.

Callen and Sam exchanged glances. "We're still working on that."

"Then work fast, gentlemen. It could be important." She turned towards Eric. "Mr. Beal. The covers, if you please."

He swallowed hard and typed a quick command that cleared the screen and brought two pictures up to replace the information. Names and dates hovered under the faces, typed in thick black text that looked scarily formal.

Kensi stared at her own face, a queasy kind of excitement rolling in her stomach. "Jess Hunter." She nodded. "I like it."

Deeks read his cover name. "David Hunter. Very manly." He paused, and blinked at the screen. "Wait, why is my cover older than me?" He turned to Eric, a mock glare on his face. "Are you trying to tell me something?"

Eric raised his eyebrows, but shook his head. "Hey, it's only a year older," he muttered.

Hetty picked up two files and passed them to Kensi and Deeks. "Go. Read your covers. Learn them both."

The partners nodded and took the files, heading out of the door.

Callen watched them go and shook his head. "I have a bad feeling about this case," he muttered.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

The small, neat conference room was so well hidden that Deeks hadn't known that it existed until Hetty had given him and Kensi the keys- and the directions- to it. He opened the door and stepped in, one eyebrow lifting at the fine oak desk and matching chairs. The walls were painted pale yellow and hung with exquisite old frames, filled with picture of people he'd never seen before.

"This is really nice," he said and sat down, running one hand over the smooth wood. He'd grown up in a house filled with cheap furniture that was chipped and dented. Most of it had been rescued from yard sales and discount stores. It had given him appreciation for the good stuff.

Kensi dropped down onto a chair facing the door and watched him as he circled the table, examining the fine walnut sideboard. Trinkets rested on top of it. He touched the rim of a silver cup with one finger

She raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "It's just a desk, Deeks."

He opened his mouth to reply, then thought better of it, gesturing at the folder instead. "Wanna go over these?" he asked.

Kensi flipped her own folder open, then leaned back, folding her arms. "Jess Hunter," she started, tilting her head at the pained expression on his face. A second later, she blinked as realisation struck. _Damn it, his last partner was called Jess. What was Eric thinking of? _The thought left her frowning.

"Kensi?" Deeks asked softly, silently wondering exactly how he'd managed to piss her off again. "Hello, earth to Kensi?"

She flattened her hands on the polished oak in front of her. "Does it bother you?" she asked bluntly. "Me using her name?"

He tilted his head, looking away for a long second. "Little bit," he admitted finally. "I think she'd have approved, though." He looked up and met her eyes, forcing a smile that he didn't really feel. "It's just weird, hearing it again."

"Okay," she said, but the look in her eyes said she wasn't anywhere like convinced. "You're David Hunter, lawyer to a wide and varied range of criminals. You were born on Sunday, the 29th of September, 1974. Your parents were called Maggie and Andrew. You started working for the law firm two years ago." She paused, and met his eyes. "We were married on Monday, 30th of November 2009."

"Nice." He nodded. "My turn. You're Jess Hunter, US Navy Master-at-Arms who wants out. You were born on Wednesday, the 15th of March, 1978. Parents were Melanie and John Tate. You want out of the Navy because you're being re-deployed in a month and don't want to go." He smiled, knowing the next thing he said was going to annoy her. "We spent our honeymoon in San Francisco, in a crappy little motel room that we didn't leave for three days. You were deployed for six months the day after we came back."

She made a face and threw a ball of paper at his head. He dodged it just in time, catching it with one hand and rolling it back across the table to her. She stopped it with one hand and left in next to her on the table.

The door opened. They both looked over, watching as Detective Smith negotiated the doorway with little trouble. The walking stick tapped against the floor. Both of them stood, already moving to help her. She stopped them with a small smile and a shake of her head.

"Hi," she said, and took a seat. "I've been in touch with my contacts. I have an in for you- a man called Brian Butler. He's British and works for Steele." She opened a folder and pulled out a black and white photograph. "He's a bastard, and a nasty piece of work, but he'll take to you meet Steele if he thinks you're sincere about joining them."

Deeks studied the photograph, noting the cold glint in the bald man's eyes, then passed it across the table to Kensi.

"He looks like a real gent," Kensi muttered. "How do you know him?"

Amy shifted a little. "He was the one who recruited my team," she said flatly. "After everything went to hell, we checked him out thoroughly." She pursed her lips. "We could find anything to link him to the attack."

"Doesn't mean that he wasn't involved," Deeks mused.

"No, Detective Deeks. It does not." She turned her head, glaring at him. "However, if you want to join them, then he is your best bet. You can take it or leave it." Anger darkened her eyes and brought a wash of colour to her cheeks.

"We'll take it," Kensi said firmly. "What else can you tell us about him?"

The other woman shrugged. "There's not much to tell. He was born to normal parents… joined the Royal Navy at eighteen. By twenty five, he'd been dishonourably discharged because of he was using illegal drugs. We think he met Sabine while he was training in Germany. After they met, Butler got into running drugs. It's only in the past year that he's been recruiting for the cult." She bit her lip. "Our analysts think it's a reward. I'm not so sure. I think his temper wad getting the better of him." She chuckled dryly. "Either that, or he was sampling the merchandise too much."

"Great," Deeks said and tried to ignore the shiver than ran down his spine like ice. "A user with an anger management problem. Just what we need."

"Well, he's all you've got," Amy said and stood, limping to the door. The both watched her go, knowing that she was lucky to have survived and hoping that it wouldn't happen to them.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note-

This is a bit of a short chapter. Sorry about that! It's a bit of a transitory chapter too, but I needed to write it like this to set up the action in the next few chapters. Kensi and Deeks will actually be going undercover soon, I promise. ;) I meant this whole story to be rather more light hearted that it's turned out.

I also wanted to say a big thank you for all of the reviews and messages. They're what keeps me writing.

Lou

Chapter Nine

Callen slowly peeled the wrapper off another toosie pop. He examined the orange candy critically before he stuck it into his mouth. Sam rolled his eyes and plucked the wrapper from Callen's hands, smoothing it out and folding it. They'd been sitting in the car for the best part of an hour, and Callen was getting antsy. Stake outs never had been his favourite thing. This one was doubly annoying because there was so much work they could do back at the Mission.

"Do you think this man's ever going to show?" Callen asked.

Sam shrugged, hands still busy folding the wrapper. "Detective Smith seems to think so."

"Well, he could have picked a better part of town to do his drop."

They were parked in an alley between two abandoned lots. It opened into a narrow street with closely packed, run down houses a few feet from the nose of their car. Stalky brown grass and wilted weeds covered the lots. Bags of rubbish dotted both of them, some split open and spread about by animals. The scent of rotting food came and went as the wind shifted. It was starting to make Callen regret the sandwich he'd eaten on the drive over.

Callen caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head, coming face to face with a large tabby cat as it walked along the top of the low fence. It hissed and bolted for safety behind a stack of soggy cardboard boxes.

"I think that's him," Sam said, bending to examine the grainy photo Amy had provided them with. "What do you think?"

"Looks like. Same build, same scar on his cheek," Callen agreed. "He looks pretty calm."

The man was short, and rail thing, swaddled in layers of ratty clothes. Sam snapped a series of pictures as the man approached a drunkenly leaning post box and slid a bulky envelope inside. He paused and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one with a match.

"Drop's done." Callen picked up the camera and snapped photos as the man climbed slowly into a beat up brown sedan and drove off. "Now we get to see what he left us."

"You get the licence number?" Sam asked.

"You think that would have been a good idea? Why didn't I think of that?" Callen gave him a look, and tilted the camera. "Yes, I got the plate."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Ha ha. Very funny, G." He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a quick text. Mere seconds later, his phone beeped as he received a message. "Kensi and Deeks are on their way. We should see them in a few minutes."

"Do you really think that someone will be watching?"

Sam dropped an origami crane on the dashboard and shrugged. "I don't think it pays to take chances with people like these."

A blue truck pulled to a halt in front of the post box. The dim light in the narrow street made it hard to see the people inside, but the truck was easy to recognise.

"There they are," Callen said, and watched as Deeks got out of the truck, cautiously approaching the letter box.

He pulled the envelope out and tucked it under his arm, handing it to Kensi as he climbed back into the truck. Seconds later, he drove past Callen and Sam without even glancing at them. Kensi had her head bent, face lit up by her phone as she typed a text.

"He's good," Callen chuckled. "Most people would have looked."

"They both are," Sam said and started the car, pulling out of the alley and heading in the opposite direction to Deeks.

"Back to the Mission?" Callen asked.

Sam slowed for a red light. "No, G. I was thinking about going home and catching the ball game on TV. I'm sure Hetty won't mind."

Callen unwrapped another pop and stuck it in his mouth. "You're not funny. You know that, right?"

"I'm very funny." Sam made a left turn, expertly weaving the car through the slow moving traffic in front of them. "You just don't have a sense of humour."

"Who told you that, and how drunk were they?" Callen snarked.

"Keep pushing, G, and I'm going to ask Hetty to assign me a new partner," Sam said, and made a sharp turn down a side street, eyes darting to the rear view mirror. "We're being followed, G."

Callen eased his gun from its holster. "Big black SUV? I see them."

Sam made another quick turn, pulling into a parking garage. The SUV pulled in after them and stopped. Two men got out, approaching the car with their hands open and away from their sides.

"Agents Callen and Hanna?" The tallest man called.

Sam and Callen exchanged a quick look. "Who wants to know?"

"I'm Detective Watson. This is my partner, Detective Larch." Both men drew their jackets back, showing the badges on their belts. "We have something we think that you should see."


	10. Chapter 10

This is another shortie, sorry. (I am aiming for longer chapters, but my muse is being evil and making them run short.)

Once again, thank you for all the support. I really enjoy reading it and I love the fact that so many of you are enjoying these stories.

Lou

Chapter Ten

The ops room was quiet and mostly empty. Eric sat at his computer, fingers moving rhythmically on the keyboard. Nell had gone for coffee, leaving him in blessed peace for a few short minutes. He liked the analyst, but he needed a few minute's respite from her now and again.

Callen had sent him a video, but the quality was so bad that it was hard to make out what was going on. The audio was worse, crackling and garbled. He adjusted a few settings and let the enhancement program run.

The door opened. He turned, expecting Nell or Hetty. Kensi entered the room, with Deeks close behind her. She carried the envelope in a clear plastic evidence bag.

"Do you know what's in there yet?" Eric asked.

"Well, it's not a bomb or drugs, we know that." Deeks shrugged. "Could be anthrax, or Ebola or something else equally nasty." Despite his glib words, he was uneasy about the package. _You never know when the bastards will develop something new and undetectable, _he thought. 

"And you're just going to open it?" Eric glanced at the envelope, then back at Deeks, eyes wide. "Shouldn't you open it somewhere… else? Like, a lab?"

"Relax, Eric," Kensi said. "It's safe. Security checked it thoroughly before we brought it into the building."

The tech sighed and turned to glare at Deeks. "Not funny."

The blonde detective smiled sheepishly, moving his shoulders in a little shrug. "Sorry, Eric."

"Not funny," the tech groused, then crossed back to his computer as it pinged.

Kensi laid the bag on the table and pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket. She pulled the envelope from the evidence bag and upended it on the desk. Two sets of keys clattered out, followed by several sheets of paper.

Deeks pulled his own gloves on and picked up the top sheet. "It's an address and a list of instructions." His eyebrows rose. "We have to send them five thousand dollars as a goodwill payment before they'll agree to the meeting."

Kensi picked up another sheet. "Bank details. Eric, can you trace these?" She crossed the room, holding the sheet up as he copied the numbers.

"I'll see what I can find." His fingers rattled over the keyboard. "They're likely dead ends, but you never know."

"Kensi, we need to move," Deeks said suddenly.

Eric twitched. "Why?" he asked, voice holding a hint of panic. "Was there something on the papers? Do I need to lock down the building?"

"What?" Deeks asked, distracted by the instructions. "No… we have to be at the house they're providing us by seven PM, or the meeting is off." He glanced at his watch. "It's after five now. That doesn't give us much time."

He slid everything carefully back into the envelope. "I'll go talk to Hetty. You wanna phone Callen and Sam to update them?"

Kensi nodded and pulled her phone from her pocket. "Sure. Where are they, anyway?"

Eric spoke without looking away from the screen. "LAPD found another body. No ID yet. They think the murder might be connected to cult, so Sam and Callen are checking it out."

"Why do they think that?" Deeks asked.

Eric stopped typing and looked up, face grim. "Because the poor bastard was tied between two trees and set on fire."

Kensi winced. Her hand dropped to the gun holstered at her back, a quick, reassuring touch that helped to chase away the core of ice in her gut that seemed to be permanent since starting this case. Nothing she did melted it. _I hope that's not a sign that this is going to go bad,_ she thought.

Deeks shook his head, face just as grim as the tech's. "That is not a good way to go." He fought off a shudder, trying not to picture himself or Kensi in the same situation, yet the image wouldn't leave his mind. Years of experience had given him countless nightmares, yet this one thought chilled him more than any of them ever had.

"Earth to Deeks?" Kensi said and tapped his arm. "Hello?" She had one hand resting on her hip.

He blinked slowly, shaking his head. "Sorry, thinking."

"By the expression on your face, I'm sure that I don't want to know," Kensi said, trying for levity. The attempt fell flat, leaving her frowning and worried. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, shadowed eyes sliding away from hers. "It's nothing."

She pressed the evidence bag into his hands. "Can you take your nothing down stairs and talk to Hetty?" Her tone was firm, but her eyes were filled with concern.

His hands tightened around the bag, feeling the hardness of the metal under his fingers. "I'm on it."

She watched him walk out, shoulders slumped a little and wondered what was bothering him. _I'll find out,_ she thought. _Once we get a second to ourselves, I'll pry it out of him._

Sighing, she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and hit a speed dial button. "Callen, we have a problem."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Sam stepped into the meeting room, a thick cardboard tray holding four cups of coffee in one hand and a bag filled with freshly made sandwiches in the other. He set them onto the table. Callen did the same with his coffee and sandwiches, sliding two cups across the table to Eric and Nell. Amy took one from Sam, sipping it with quiet relief. The scent of rich, dark roast filled the room, competing against the fresh, yeasty smell of the sandwich rolls.

Eric took the paper cup with a nod of thanks. "So, we're working through dinner?" He dumped in a couple of packets of sugar and stirred the hot drink, dropping the wooden stick into the empty sandwich bag.

Callen nodded. "Yup. We're working through dinner."

An antique grandfather clock standing in the corner ticked restlessly. The sharp, heavy sound underscored all of their words, a subliminal reminder that they didn't have much time left. Light, fitful rain splattered against the windows.

Kensi sipped her coffee, setting Deeks' in front of his empty chair along with a wrapped ham and cheese sandwich for the blonde man. The cup steamed gently.

Sam settled into a seat across the table from Kensi. It put him next to Nell. She reached for a packet of sauce, bumping hands with Sam as he reached for the same. He smiled a fraction and handed her the packet. She bobbed her head in thanks.

"Where's Deeks?" Callen asked as he paced the long wall. His coffee cup hung loosely in his hand. "We're only waiting for him."

Kensi swallowed a mouthful of coffee. "I sent him to ask Hetty for five thousand dollars." She raised her eyebrows in tired amusement. "I haven't seen him since."

"G, will you sit down and eat something?" Sam asked. "I can hear your gut from here."

The brown haired man hesitated for a few long seconds, ignoring the raised-eyebrow look his partner shot at him, before he sat down on one of the ladder-back chairs. He unwrapped his sandwich and picked the salad leaves out of it, depositing them in a small, neat pile. Sam rolled his eyes and bit his own sandwich, munching a spinach leaf with a pointed look at his partner.

The brown haired man ignored him. "What's the five grand for?"

Kensi slid a photocopy of the instructions across the table. "It's a goodwill payment." She shrugged. "They won't meet us without it."

Amy laid her hands on either side of her untouched sandwich and leaned forward. "That's new. They never asked my team for money." She frowned, thinking. "What else do they want?"

Callen passed her the instructions, staying quiet as she read them. "They're getting more advanced. Ten to one, the apartment is bugged with cameras as well as microphones."

The door opened. Deeks stepped though, one hand wrapped tightly around a bulky brown envelope. A couple of frown lines marked the skin in between his eyes. "Hetty gave us the cash." He took his seat and set the money on the table. "She's not happy about it though. I had to sign enough forms to give me writer's cramp." He pulled the lid from his coffee cup and sipped it. "What did I miss?"

They filled him in quickly. He listened, nodding now and again, using the time to eat his food. Breakfast suddenly seemed a long time ago. It was a lesson he'd learned early as a cop- eat when you get the chance, because you never know when something is going to happen. It had stuck with him.

"I don't like the apartment," Callen said. "It gives them a hold over you before you've even met them."

Amy shrugged. "That's why they use it," she said flatly. "It's their territory, they control it. It puts the person or persons wanting to join at a disadvantage, gives the cult all the power."

"Eric, can you disable the bugs?" Deeks asked.

The tech frowned, and shook his head. "I can't even find them," he admitted. "They must be on an internal network that's not connected to the internet. I could cut the power, but it might look a bit suspicious."

Sam nodded. "We'll save that for a last resort. You'll just have to live with them."

Deeks and Kensi nodded. Both wore troubled expressions. "So we're going in?" Kensi asked.

"What time did they want you to be there?" Callen glanced at his watch.

"Before seven," Deeks supplied. "It's almost six now. We're going to have to move now."

"I really don't like this, G," Sam said. "Feels like we're missing something."

"Operations like this usually do at the start," Amy said.

Deeks lifted his eyebrows, privately agreeing with her. No matter how organised you thought you were, you never had all of the pieces going in. It took time to feel out all of the players, to scope out the game. _Three days,_ he thought. _Three days before we really know what we're up against. Then a week after that to figure out what to do about them. _

"So, do we go?" he asked and held up the envelope. "I didn't beg Hetty for this for no reason."

"We go," Callen said and sighed, a tired smile touching his lips. "Hetty packed you both an overnight bag."

Deeks eyes widened. "And that might be the most frightening thing about this whole op," he muttered.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Cool, salt-scented air blew into the truck through the half-open window. It was dusk, and the indigo sky was quickly running towards true night. Deeks turned the engine off and leaned back in his seat, glancing over at his passenger. He felt stiff and tired. A headache pounded behind his eyes.

A quick glance at his watch told him that they had a few minutes left before the deadline. He didn't feel like moving, content to relax a little in the cool darkness. It was a welcome respite, and likely the last moments they'd have completely to themselves until the operation was over. _Couple more minutes, and we'll move,_ he thought.

Kensi had her cargo pant clad knees propped against the dashboard. Her boots rested against the edge of the seat. A bag of mini peanut butter cups sat on her lap. She noticed him looking and offered him the bag, one eyebrow lifting in a tired question.

He took a couple and popped on in his mouth, chewing the confection slowly. His stomach rumbled nosily. "Eric was going to make your cover a health food nut, you know," he teased.

Her dark eyes narrowed. "He wouldn't dare."

"He was going to." Deeks chewed his last peanut butter cup and licked his fingers. "Sam and Callen managed to talk him out of it."

She offered him the bag again and snorted. "I'd have made him pay." She lifted an eyebrow. "I know where he keeps him stash of gadgets that he doesn't want Hetty to know about."

He smiled. "Which is what Callen said." He pulled the keys from the ignition and shook them, listening to the metal jingle. "Ready to go in?"

She looked past him, at the safe house, and nodded slowly. "It's all starting to feel so…"

"Real?" he supplied softly, and rubbed his neck. "I know."

Their covers would start the second that they left the beat-up truck, though they wouldn't be really tested until the morning, when they met their contact for the first time. Deeks was trying to ignore the uneasy feeling he had about the man.

"Yeah, real." She nodded and opened the truck door, stepping out into the cooling night.

He followed her out, a pensive frown on his face. They both grabbed their overnight bags from the truck's bed and headed up the steep stairs towards the blue painted front door. White metal railings bordered the stairs. Deeks leaned against them, feeling the cold in the metal soaking through his dark grey jacket.

She passed him her bag and pulled her keys from her pocket, unlocking the both locks. They shared a tiny, searching look before she stepped into the narrow hallway and flipped the lights on.

"Well, it's better than I expected, Jess," Deeks said, slipping easily into his cover. He flexed his hand, feeling the unfamiliar constriction of the wedding ring around his finger. The simple gold band caught the light.

Kensi looked around the narrow hallway, eyes lingering on the grey tiled floor. The walls were painted stark white, which should have made the small space feel cold and unwelcoming, but the cheap framed prints on the walls and the few plants tucked about softened the white and made it feel homely.

"It's nice," she said and took her bag from him. "I'm starving. You feel like ordering a pizza?" Her eyes kept dropping to the rings on her own fingers. There was a tiny crease in her forehead.

Neither of them had been given much time to get used to the new jewellery. They'd had less than an hour to change clothes and make the short drive to the apartment. _Wonder what Hetty packed in the bags, _Deeks thought, amused despite the graveness of the situation.

His stomach rumbled noisily despite the sandwich he'd eaten only a few hours before. "God, do I ever," he said. "Tell you what, you order while I go dump our stuff. Deal?"

She nodded and passed him the beat up leather overnight bag. "Deal."

He slung it over his shoulder and followed the hallway, coming to a steep set of stairs. The bag bumped against him as he jogged up them. His boots sounded loud against the bare-wood stairs. He reached the top, peering down the hallway with natural caution.

There were white painted doors. All of them were closed. He opened the first, finding a decent sized bathroom with a bath tub and a shower, then moved on to open the next, an amused smile touching his lips when he saw the size of the bed. It was easily big enough for two people, spread with simple, plain white bedding. He dropped the bag and sat on the edge of it. _Well, at least it's comfortable,_ he thought and stood again, unzipping the bags and emptying them onto the bed's surface.

His own clothes consisted of plain, sober shirts and dark twill pants. The only colour came from a pair of green pyjama bottoms. He tucked them into a drawer, adding a handful of boxers and socks after them and returned to the bed, gathering Kensi's clothes. They were like his- plain shirts in dark colours, and jeans. Her pyjamas were pale blue, shorts and a t-shirt. He picked up her underwear without really looking at it, irrationally glad that she wasn't in the room when he realised that he was blushing, just a little bit. _Damn it, Deeks, _he snarled at himself. _Get over it, okay?_

He dropped everything into the drawer next to his own and set the bags onto a chair. _Might as well get comfortable, _he thought and slipped his jacket off, stooping to unfasten his shoes. He slipped them off and padded back down the stairs, cat-quiet in his sock clad feet, carrying his shoes in his hand. He dropped them on the stairs. The floor feel cool against his feet.

"Honey?" he called at the foot of the stairs and winced internally when he thought of the reaction she would usually give that word.

"In here!" Kensi called back.

He followed her voice and found her in the kitchen, fussing with a needlessly complicated coffee maker. The gleaming chrome machine was large and had more buttons and handles than either of them knew what to do with.

"Ah ha," Kensi made a satisfied sound and reached past him to grab two cups from the counter.

"Figured it out, wonder woman?" he drawled.

He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder as he watched her fiddle with the machine, tracing her finger over the metal as she worked to figure it out. Two button presses and a gush of steam later, rich, fragrant coffee dripped into the cups.

She smiled widely and turned her head to look at him. "I hope that you were watching closely. It's your turn next."

He widened his eyes in mock surprise. "You might be drinking cold water from the tap."

His fingers brushed over her wrist as he stretched to take the cup. Her pulse flickered wildly, the only sign of stress. Outwardly, she looked calm and composed.

"I'd…" she narrowed her eyes, considering a suitable punishment. "I'd shave your head."

"Cut my hair?" He shook his head. "Guess I better figure this machine out then."

"Let's go and check out the rest of this place," she suggested.

He nodded against her shoulder and stepped back. She padded down the hallway, taking her cup with her, and found the living room.

A large, white leather couch took up most of the back wall. It sat across from a plasma TV, mounted on the wall. More plants dotted the room. An oak coffee table stood in front of the couch.

She sat on the couch, stretching her legs out with a soft grunt. "Comfy," she said, and lifted an eyebrow in invitation. "Join me?"

Deeks settled next to her, groaning when someone knocked on the door. "Typical," he groused, and stood, setting his coffee on a coaster on the table. He patted his pocket, checking for his wallet and walked towards the front door.

Halfway there, nerves hit him, leaving butterflies dancing wildly in his gut. His gun was locked in the safe in the Mission, along with Kensi's and he suddenly missed it. _I feel naked without it,_ he thought as he reached the door and opened it.

There was no security chain, so he jammed his knee behind the solid wood and peered through the gap. "Yep?"

"David Hunter?" The short, balding man outside of the door asked. In the dim light, his eyes looked to be the colour of the sea, where its deep and dark and cold.

Something about him sent shivers of reaction screaming through Deeks. He'd seen the same time more than he cared to remember in his years as a cop. He knew what they were capable of doing. Nothing good came of messing with people like him.

Deeks nodded. "That's me," he said warily. "Can I help you?"

"My employer sent me to have a chat with you and your lovely wife. Can I come in?"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Deeks stepped back and opened the door wide, clamping down hard on the instincts that were screaming at him to throw the man down and cuff him. _this is not a good man,_ he thought as he met the other man's dead eyes. Cold goosebumps washed over his skin in a prickling wave, lifting the small hairs on his arms and the back of his neck in response to the dangerous man standing so very quietly in front of him.

"So, what do you think of the accommodations?" The bald man asked and pushed past Deeks, ambling along the narrow hallway.

Deeks shrugged. "They're better than I expected," he said flatly. Long practice let him look cool and calm, even as his heart thundered like a galloping horse in his chest.

"Well, we only provide the best for our brothers and sisters," the man said, and stepped into the living room.

Unbidden, an image of Amy, laying bruised and broken in a hospital bed rose to Deeks' mind. It made his stomach feel sour and tight. He blinked, forcing the image away. "Oh, I'm sure that you do," he muttered blandly.

"Hey, hon… Oh," Kensi said. She swung her feet to the floor, reaching for the TV remote to mute the local news. "David?" She yelled.

"I'm here," Deeks said and sat down next to her on the couch. Her fingers wrapped around his. It was strange, how familiar that touch felt already. Her skin was soft and warm and dry, with slight calluses from her gun on her finger and palm.

The bald man remained standing, his soulless eyes fixed on Kensi's face. His expression bordered on amused, but it was a cold, calculating amusement that sent a shiver of pure ice down her spine. _Now I know what a mouse feels like just before the cat pounces on it, _she thought.

She held his gaze for a long moment, then turned her head to look at Deeks. "Who is this?"

Deeks smiled grimly. "This is… well, actually, he didn't give me a name, but he works for the people we're hoping to join."

Kensi stood, knowing that her cover's military training wouldn't let her sit down if there was someone of higher rank in the room, and nodded her head in an almost-salute. "Pleased to meet you, sir. Would you like a coffee?" She smoothed her hair, tucking fly-away stands back into her bun. "We ordered pizza, but it hasn't arrived yet."

"No," the cult recruiter said. "I'd like to you gather your things. We're going for a little drive." His voice was flat, and held only the barest trace of an accent.

Kensi frowned as she struggled to place it. It might give them a clue to how his mind worked if she knew where he'd lived. Anything about the players in this game would help them, even the smallest, most inconsequential bit of information.

"Yes, sir," she said, letting her uncertainty show through her voice.

"Where are we going?" Deeks asked, arms folded tightly. "Your instructions never said anything about this. In fact, you're early. The meeting was supposed to take place at noon tomorrow."

The recruiter frowned. "No, Mr. Hunter, they did not." He spread his hands in a disarming gesture that didn't fool either of them one little bit. "However, given the recent bad press our little slice of utopia has received, my boss feels it's best to be prudent…" He paused and swept his gaze over them. "Now, I won't ask you again. Please gather your things so we can be on our way. It's best not to keep my boss waiting." His voice was deceptively mild and level. It didn't match the anger burning in his eyes.

_He doesn't like to be questioned,_ Kensi thought as she sat on the couch, slipping her boots on and fastening the laces. Her jacket was on the over stuffed armchair in the corner. She picked it up and slipped it on, zipping it to her chin. The temperature hadn't change, but she felt chilled to the bone.

"What can we call you, sir?" she asked.

Deeks squeezed her shoulder as he stood, leaving the room briefly to retrieve his jacket and shoes. Worry churned in his gut as he jogged back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. The pulse pounding in his temples gave him a headache.

A knock on the door made him turn away from the living room. He opened the door, blinking in honest surprise as he recognised Eric. The tech looked nervous and uncomfortable in the badly fitting uniform. A muscle jumped in his cheek.

"One large meat feast deluxe with red peppers and olives, one medium garlic bread. That's seventeen dollars, please."

Deeks took the boxes and handed Eric a twenty, taking the change. One coin felt different to the others, slightly lighter. He turned it over in his hands and shot a puzzled look at Eric.

"Tracker," the tech mouthed.

Deeks nodded and slipped the coin in to the middle of his wallet, dumping the rest of the change into his pocket.

"Thanks, man," the blonde cop said and watched Eric walk back down the path. He didn't close the door until the tech got into his car.

"David?" Kensi called, a worried note in her voice.

"Honey, the pizza's here," he called. "I won't be a second."

The recruiter stood in the middle of the living room, a deep frown on his face. "Are you finished playing house now?" he snapped at Deeks.

Deeks shrugged and wrapped his free arm around Kensi. "Sorry, man. We haven't eaten since breakfast, and I'm starving."

Kensi nodded. "We didn't get time to stop on the drive here."

The bald man nodded. "Okay. You can bring it with you." His anger had vanished, leaving behind a soft, jovial calm that was almost worse. "We really must move. My boss is most anxious to meet the pair of you." He frowned thoughtfully at them. "Not many people in your position can come up with five thousand dollars in such a short space of time."

Deeks lifted his eyebrows. "I sold my car, man. Nothing hard about that."

They walked out of the front door, pausing while Kensi locked the door. A gleaming black Lexus SUV sat across the street. The recruiter disabled the alarm system, making the lights flash.

"Nice ride, man," Deeks drawled.

"Must you call me that?" the recruiter snapped, a flash of anger once again breaking though his calm façade. He opened the back door, tipping his head at the pair to get in.

They both hesitated, staring at the dark interior of the car like it held a wild, angry lion. Neither of them wanted to get into it. Kensi slid her arm around Deeks, feeling the muscles on either side of his spine contract in surprise. He turned his head to look at her, eyes filled with the same kind of fear she could feel on her own face.

_I don't like this one bit,_ she thought. Perspiration had broken out along the curve of her back. It felt cold and uncomfortable in the chilly breeze. She licked her lips, wondering why her mouth felt so very dry all of a sudden. The rusty taste of fear washed through her as she swallowed fruitlessly.

Deeks' spine was stiff and straight under her arm. She felt him exhale before he moved, pressing the boxes into her hand with a quick, pointed look that she didn't like. He looked pale under his tan, but that could have been a trick of the lights.

"Sorry, dude." Deeks shrugged and climbed into the SUV. "I have to call you something, and since you didn't give us a name…"

"I'm sorry, sir," Kensi blurted as she slid into the SUV after her partner. "Ignore him. He gets like this when he's nervous."

Her hands wanted to tremble. She clenched them tightly around the boxes, suddenly grateful for the prop.

The bald man started the engine. "Well, you could call me sir, like your adorable wife does, but I don't think that's quite your bag." He sighed. "You may call me Ben."

"So, how long is this little trip going to take us?" Deeks asked. The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling. He lifted one hand, casually rubbing his neck to stop the distracting sensation.

Kensi leaned against the leather seat, the boxes on her lap. A frown drew her eyebrows together. He didn't have to guess what she was thinking- he had an excellent idea already. _Oh, God. I so do not like this._

A small, chilling smile touched Ben's lips. "Oh, don't worry. You'll have time to finish your pizza before we reach our location."

"Great," Deeks said, biting back the sarcasm that wanted to spill from his lips. "Drive on then, McDuff."


	14. Chapter 14

Author's note-

Sorry for the delay. Work caught up with me there for a bit. ;) I should have at least two chapters up today.

I'd like to say thank you to everyone who is reading this. Reviews are always appreciated. ;)

Lou

Chapter Fourteen

Ben drove slowly, winding through the city on narrow back streets and side roads. He kept his attention fixed on the road and ignored Deeks and Kensi. Now and then, he glanced in the mirror, a grimly amused smile playing over his thin lips. It grated on Kensi's nerves and made her want to punch him.

"So, where are we going?" Deeks asked.

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Ben said without looking away from the road. "It won't take us too long to get there. Why are you so concerned?"

Deeks shrugged. "I just like to know where I'm going, that's all."

They passed under a streetlamp. The dull yellow light flickered over ben's face. His jaw was clenched, and a muscle jumped in his cheek, betraying his tightly coiled anger.

Deeks slumped back against the leather seat and grabbed a slice of pizza from the box on Kensi's lap, mind whirling as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Hey, hon?" he asked softly, knowing that Ben could hear every word and hating it. "Are you sure you still want to do this? We can still…"

"No, Mr. Hunter. You cannot back out now," Ben said just as softly. There was an edge of menace in his voice. "You're both in too… deep."

His tone sent a chill through both of them. Without thinking, Kensi reached across the seat and took Deeks' hand. His pulse thundered against her fingertips. She didn't begrudge him that, knowing that hers was doing exactly the same. It wasn't fear, exactly, but adrenaline and anxiety. Part of the job was learning how to function with the heady mix thundering through your body.

"It doesn't matter anyway." She glanced at Deeks as they passed under another light. "I'm sure I want to do this. Do you want to…?"

Deeks nodded and tightened his hand, just a little. "Wild horses couldn't make me leave you."

Ben laughed. "Well, isn't that sweet?"

They both ignored him. Kensi chewed her pizza slowly, gazing out of the window. The darkly tinted glass stopped her from seeing much. What she could see left her with the impression that they were driving around in circles. She glanced at Deeks, who tipped his head in a slight nod at her questioning look.

They drove past the turnoff for the highway, creeping through more narrow streets until they reached the outskirts of the city. Ben bumped the SUV onto a the start of a fire road, turning off onto a track after less than a mile. The SUV lurched over the hard-packed dirt. Trees branches scraped against the body work. The headlights shone down the road in a narrow band. Now and then, some small animals eye's glowed green in the light.

Deeks blinked, remembering the pristine paint. _Bet he__'__s never driven this along here before,_ he thought, and wondered exactly what that meant. He sighed soundlessly, the deep, gnawing worry just below his ribs confirming that whatever the reason, it probably wasn't good.

Ben stopped the car at the base of a steep, rocky hill. A few hardy trees struggled to survive on the crumbling face, some with branches worn smooth from years being used a handholds. The recruiter pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out, barely glancing back at his passengers. "We walk from here. Leave your rubbish in the car. I'll get rid of it."

The woods were dark and deep around them. Kensi glanced at Deeks as she opened the door and stepped out, boots sinking into the damp leaf litter. He did the same, then came around the car to wrap his arm around her waist. She did the same, wondering at his sudden need to touch her. _Is he just trying to sell this cover, or is it something__…__ more?_ she wondered.

"Come on," Ben snapped, watching them with a tiny sneer of disgust on his face.

They followed him up the steep bank, using the small trees to help themselves up. Halfway up, Kensi felt her boots start to slip in the loose soil. She dug her toes in and almost groaned in frustration when that made things worse. A hand low on her back gave her chance to take a step and catch her balance again. She climbed over the top of the rise and turned, extending her hand to her partner.

Deeks took it gratefully, making it over the top of the hill in an undignified scramble. It got him an amused smile from Kensi, and a dour look from their guide. He wiped the dust from his hands and looked around.

A trail wound through the scrubby trees. The scent of rotting leaf litter and bruised vegetation filled the air. They followed the narrow path in silence for almost half an hour before they reached a wide, swiftly flowing stream. A bridge had been built over it using felled trees, bound together with thick, rough rope.

Ben walked over it without a pause. Kensi followed him, spreading her arms to catch her balance. She made it across without a problem and turned to watch Deeks navigate the log bridge. He crossed it easily and hopped down the other side, landing neatly next to Kensi.

"How much further is this camp?" he asked.

Kensi looked around, hands tucked into her pockets. The rough terrain made her uneasy. _There__'__s no way to get a truck up here. No way to land a helicopter, either,_ she thought.

"It's not far," Ben said and started walking again, clearly expecting them to follow him.

They followed him quietly for about ten minutes before Deeks stopped suddenly, swearing, one hand pressed against his cheek where a stray branch had taken a chunk out of his skin. Blood smeared on his skin.

Kensi turned, eyes wide with worry. "What happened?"

"A branch got me," Deeks muttered, letting her pull his hand away from the wound.

She took hold of his chin, angling his face towards the scant moonlight to see the wound better. It was a shallow, but long scrape across his cheekbone that was oozing blood.

"It's not too bad," she said. "Keep pressure on it for a bit."

He nodded and pressed his fingers against the scrape again.

Ben sighed. "Now you're finished playing doctors and nurses, can we get moving again?"

They both nodded, following him as he led them down another steep bank. Light twinkled at the bottom. The wind shifted, bringing the scent of cooking food and a snatch of conversation to them. The partners exchanged glances. They had reached the camp.

_And now the hard work begins, _Deeks thought and followed their grumpy guide into the ring of lights.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

The camp was much larger than either of them expected it to be. Neat tents stood in rows. Most were separated by tidy piles of rough hewn logs. Some had been split into planks, ready to use. Log cabins formed a ring in the centre of the camp, a few flanked by the supports for new huts. A generator hummed in the background, providing power for the lights. Small, contained fires burned in a few places, ringed by groups of people.

Ben led them directly to the main cabin. It was white painted, and larger than the rest by half. The covered windows glowed with electric light. He rapped his knuckles on the door then pushed it open.

"Go on in," he said. "They're expecting you."

Kensi smiled uneasily at him. "Thank you," she said and stepped into the cabin. Her boots echoed on the rough wooden flooring.

The door led directly into the main room. It was neatly organised, but so full of stuff that it looked cluttered. Folding tables ringed the walls, each heaped with supplies or paperwork. Cardboard boxes filled the space under the tables. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling, swinging gently in the breeze from the open door.

A man and a woman sat on a dark blue couch. The woman stood, a cool smile touching her lips. She brushed her hands on her worn, faded jeans and stepped towards them.

"Thank you Ben," she said, adding, "go and find a bunk. We'll need your services again in the morning."

He nodded and stepped out, leaving Kensi and Deeks alone with the other couple. Kensi glanced around the room, taking in the cluttered surroundings. Most of the boxes were still sealed. She wondered how long they'd been there. Deeks slid his hands into his pockets and tilted his head, studying the woman in front of him.

"Welcome to my camp," the woman said. She was tall and wiry, with a thick fall of dark red hair. "My name is Sabine." She tipped her head in the direction of the couch. "That's Steele. He runs the day-to-day management of the camp."

"Pleased to meet you," Deeks said, forcing a smile onto his lips. It felt stiff and fake, and he let it drop after a few brief seconds. "So what happens now? Is there, like, a secret handshake or something?"

Sabine laughed. "Oh, I can tell that you're a lawyer." She lifted her eyebrows, amused. "They're always so impatient to get to the bottom line."

Steele stood and moved over to wrap his arms around Sabine. He was tall and thickly muscled. Tattoos of snakes writhed on his arms. They almost looked alive in the moving light. She leaned back into his embrace, turning her head for a kiss. He pressed his lips against hers in a hard, possessive kiss, running his hand over her hip until she stepped away.

"Shall we sit down?" Steele asked and made his way back to the couch before anyone could answer his question.

Sabine rolled her eyes at him and crossed to a small, low table cluttered with bottles. She picked up a bottle of whiskey. "Do you want a drink?" she asked, already pouring the amber liquid into four glasses.

Deeks shrugged. "Sure," he muttered and ambled over, taking two glasses. "Here, hon," he said and passed on to Kensi.

She frowned at him but took the glass, lifting it in thanks. It burned all the way down to her stomach as she took a sip.

Sabine nodded to an empty couch. "Why don't you sit?" she said, her tone making it clear that it wasn't a suggestion.

Deeks took the cushion furthest from the door, leaning back against the musty smelling fabric. Kensi sat next to him and crossed her legs. He shifted so that she could rest against him. She did, patting his knee with her free hand.

Steele watched the partners with wary eyes. "So, how did you find out about us?" he asked.

"I heard about your camp through a friend of a friend a while back," Kensi said and shrugged. "We were at a bar, drinks were flowing and he started talking."

His dark brown eyes narrowed. "Who was the friend?"

Kensi sipped her drink again, buying herself a little time. "Larry Sanderson," she said after she'd swallowed. "I heard he crashed his car and killed himself up in the canyons. Shame. He was good at his job."

Deeks drained his glass and set it on the floor with a click that drew everyone's attention. He looked up, eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Sorry," he muttered. "I never met Larry, did I?" he asked Kensi.

She shook her head. "Nope. I think you would have liked him though."

Sabine smiled sadly and shook her head. "I'm sorry to hear that he passed." She lifted one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. "He sounds like he was a good man."

Kensi nodded, the glass cradled in her hands. "I think that he was."

Steele stood up and grabbed the bottle, pouring himself another measure. He held the bottle out in a questioning way, letting his eyes linger on Deeks.

The blonde detective shook his head, a half smile on his lips. "Not for me, thanks," he muttered.

The taller man shrugged and sat back down. "Suit yourself," he said and recapped the bottle, glancing sideways at Sabine. "Want me to get the folder?"

She smiled softly and leaned over, reaching for a thick pile of paper on the side table. "No need." She looked up, meeting Kensi's eyes. "As you can understand, we don't allow just anyone to join us. We have to take care to preserve our way of life, and that means weeding out… undesirable types."

Kensi nodded. "We understand," she muttered, when Sabine seemed to be waiting for some kind of response. "You need to vet people. It's only fair."

Sabine smiled again, more darkly. "Oh, I'm afraid that this goes past vetting people." Her nails drummed softly on the couch's arm. "You see, we need to test you to make sure you're really willing to commit to our cause." She flipped open the folder and held it up. "I want you to kill this woman for us."

Deeks blinked, shock stealing his breath for a long second. Kensi's fingers tightened on his arm. "Who is she?" he asked.

Sabine let the folder drop onto the couch. "Her name is Amy Smith. She's a detective with Interpol."


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note-**

Wow, sorry guys. It's been a long time since I last updated this. My muse ran off with another plot and refused to work on this until I'd written the other story. On the plus side, I now have a 67k sci-fi story that I really enjoyed writing.

Hope you enjoy this update. :)

Lou

Chapter Sixteen

Kensi stiffened, eyes widening in shock. Her hands tightened into fists. She let out a soft breath and forced herself to relax. Cold dislike churned in her gut as she stared at Sabine's smiling face.

Deeks sucked in a startled breath. "You want us to kill her? Why?" he repeated slowly, sure that he'd misheard or misunderstood. "You want us to kill a detective who is working for Interpol?"

Sabine nodded, a small, amused smile playing on her lips. "Yes, we want you to kill her and bring us proof." She settled back on the couch and draped one arm around Steele, playing with a bit of his hair.

He leaned into her touch and sighed like a contented puppy. His eyes closed as she trailed her fingers down his neck, scratching his skin lightly.

"Why?" Kensi asked softly and raised her eyebrows. "You ask us to kill a cop. I'd really like to know the reason why before I agree to it."

Deeks' hand tightened on hers in a silent warning not to press them too hard. She rubbed her thumb over his knuckles in mute acknowledgement and tried to ignore the anger burning in her gut.

Steele's eyes popped open. "That's none of your business," he snarled.

Sabine ran her fingers up his thigh in a slow, teasing line. "No. I want them to know." Her voice caught as Steele slipped his hands under her shirt. A small, chilling smile touched her lips again. "It's a good demonstration of what happens if you choose to betray us." Her voice had turned cold and heavy with stark warning. "Detective Amy Smith led an undercover team into our camp. Herself and two men."

Steele shook his head. His lips drew back from his teeth in a silent snarl. "They lived with us. Ate with us. Drank our beer, and all the time they were collecting evidence to use against us."

"What did you do to them?" Deeks asked.

Steele stood and crossed to the back corner of the cabin. Metal grated on metal as he opened a drawer in an old, beat up filing cabinet. He walked back to the couches and dropped a thick red folder on Kensi's lap.

"We burned them," he said, a cold, raw edge in his voice.

It sent a shudder through Deeks, lifting the fine hairs on his arms. Deep, grim dread settled in behind his breastbone. _We__'__re not getting out of this one without bleeding,_ he thought and swallowed hard.

Kensi opened the folder, spilling glossy, brightly coloured photographs onto the couch. She picked on at random and almost gagged. All of her training, all of the cases she'd worked… none of them had prepared her for the scene captured in the photograph. Silently, she flipped through them, ignoring the nausea churning in her stomach with sheer force of will. She reached the end of the photos and handed them to Deeks.

A soft, wordless sound escaped his parted lips as his eyes fell on the glossy prints. They showed two men, plainly terrified, chained between a pair young, sturdy trees. Their clothes clung to their skin, doused in what he guessed was petrol. He flipped past the next few photos, eyes catching the bright glow of flames as they engulfed the two men. A cold shiver shot through him as he forced himself not to think about how awful burning to death would be. He stopped at the last photo and stared at the blackened, twisted mess, brain refusing to accept that it had once been a man. A sour tasted filled his mouth. He licked his lips and looked up.

Sabine was staring at him. Her eyes were wide and filled with dark excitement. "So you understand," she said, voice pitched higher and filled with pleasure.

Kensi glanced at the photos, sitting neatly piled and upside down on the couch next to her. "We understand."

"What happened to the woman?" Deeks asked, and had to fight to keep his voice flat. "You said there were two men and a woman." He lifted the photos. "These only show the men."

Sabine laughed. "Oh, we didn't burn her." She lifted a hand to cup Steele's cheek. "I gave her to my lover here to have some fun with."

Steele smiled darkly. A strange and terrible light filled his eyes. "She screamed so very well, but she wouldn't break." He sighed. "Not even when I stuck my blade in her gut again and again."

Kensi stiffened, holding her breath for a long second until the incandescent rage that had filled her subsided. "How do we find her?" she asked, the dead level tone of her voice giving nothing away.

"My little spy spotted her at the airport and tailed her back to her hotel." Sabine twisted to grab a pen from the table next to her. She wrote down an address and pressed the scrap of paper into Deeks' hand. "She checked in, and as far as we can tell, she's never left the room."

"When do you want it done?" Kensi asked.

Sabine shrugged. "The sooner you kill her, the quicker you can join our little, peaceful world here."

Deeks blinked, wondering how the irony of that word passing through her lips didn't choke her. _She sits there all calm and talks about peaceful, yet she__'__s asking us to murder a cop. This is all a big game to her,_ he thought.

"Killing this Detective Smith is a test, isn't it?" Deeks asked.

Sabine smiled. "It kills two birds with one stone for me." She pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I get to see what your true intentions are, and you get rid of the big thorn in my side for me. Win-win, as far as I can see." She shrugged again and picked up her glass, refilling it from the bottle next to her. "Of course, you could be undercover cops- which I very much doubt, watching your faces as you looked at those photos- or you could run to the cops and rat me out, which is why Steele here is going to stay with you for the next few days."

Deeks nodded. "Very efficient…" he said quietly. "When do we leave?"

"You'll stay here tonight. Steele will drive you back to the city and our apartment in the morning." She stood up and stretched. "I'll have him show you to your cabin now."

Kensi nodded and stood herself. "Thank you," she said. The words tasted bitter on her lips.

Steele got to his feet and walked over to the door. He opened it, then jerked his head at Kensi and Deeks. "Come on. Luxury accommodation awaits."

Without saying another word, the partners followed him out into the damp, cool night.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

Cool, damp night air caressed her skin as Steele led them through the slumbering camp. Moths flew through the still air, darting in and out of the few pools of light like ghosts. Night dew dampened the hems of their jeans before Steele stopped outside of a cabin made from roughly hewn logs. The scent of pine sap still clung to the wood.

Kensi looked around, pangs of alarm shooting through her as she took in the ring of tents around the cabin. Each was filled by a man pretending to sleep. _So, they don't trust us, huh? _she thought and almost rolled her eyes.

"This is yours. I'll be back at five am tomorrow," Steele said and reached past Deeks to shove the door open. The dry hinges squealed, loud in the stillness.

"Thank you," Kensi said with a smile, and went into the small building. Deeks followed close behind her, waiting until Steele melted into the night before he closed the door.

They shared a pained glance, then split up to check out the cabin. A narrow double bed filled one corner of the room, draped with bedding that looked like it had just been taken from the packet. A wobbly table stood across for the bed. Two mismatched chairs were tucked under it.

Deeks glanced around the small, square space and bit back a sigh. He dropped down on the bed and leaned against the rough wooden wall. Movement caught his attention and he jerked away from a small brown spider scurrying down the wall next to his head.

"Hey, hon?" he asked and stood up when the spider reached the low bed. "Are there black widow spiders in California?"

A branch blew in the fitful wind outside of the cabin. It scattered the light coming in through the small, plastic filled window and made the long shadows filling the room dance wildly. Kensi leaned against the rough wooden wall and looked out at the sleeping camp. A draft blew across her hands, chilling them. She tucked her hands into her pockets of her jeans.

Kensi moved away from the small, plastic filled window. "Not sure, why?"

Deeks pointed. "Because I think there's one in our bed."

Kensi peered at the spider. "I think it's harmless." She grabbed the thin blankets and flipped the spider onto the floor. It darted away towards the door.

Deeks watched it go, eyebrows raised, and debated ending the problem by standing on the spider. "You _think _it's harmless?"

She nodded and dropped the blankets back onto the bed. "Yup. I think it was harmless."

He shook his head but crossed the small space to wrap his arms around her waist. He held her lightly, as if he wasn't sure she wasn't going to accept his touch. She tensed for a second, then relaxed against him, enjoying his warmth at her back.

"Think there's more bugs?" he asked, and dipped his head to trail a soft kiss down her neck. His mouth was warm and gentle as he skimmed the underside of her jaw.

"Spiders aren't bugs," she corrected, but her voice was unsteady. "They're arachnids."

She tangled a hand in his hair, surprised at how soft it felt.

He laughed against her skin, sending gentle vibrations through her that made her shudder. "Bugs, arachnids, whatever… do you think there's more?"

She turned in his arms so she faced him and nodded. "Probably," she said on an un-even breath when his roaming hands brushed over a sensitive spot. An erreny flash of light by the ceiling caught her attention, and she let out a soft sigh. "If you see one bug, there's always more."

"I thought you said spiders weren't bugs," he teased, but his hands tightened on her hips as the true meaning of her words sank in. They were being watched.

Her hands found the hem of his t-shirt and tugged it out of his jeans. She traced the hard, defined muscles under the soft cotton then sighed. "We should get some sleep."

"Uh-huh," he muttered against her neck.

"Really, hon," she insisted and gently backed out of his embrace.

"Spoilsport," he muttered, but let her go, watching as she flipped the blankets back on the bed. He tugged his shirt off over his head and dropped it on the table. It left him in his jeans and a pale gray t-shirt. He moved around the room dousing the hurricane lamps lighting the space, leaving one next to the bed.

"No more bugs," she said dryly. The bed creaked as she sat on it and bent down to unfasten her boots. She pushed them to the side, then unfastened her pony tail and let her hair fall down her back in a smooth wave.

Deeks dropped his shoes next to her boots then joined her on the bed, holding his breath as the wooden frame groaned under their combined weight. It shifted but held solid. They glanced at each other and laughed a little in relief.

She shuffled backwards and stretched out on her side, relaxing a fraction. Her spine clicked. The bed was much more comfortable that it looked. Even the pillows were fat and fluffy. Nerves churned in her stomach as she realised just how intimate sharing a bed with her partner felt.

He laid down next to her and flipped the blankets over them, then reached above his head and bunched the pillow up. His wallet dug into his hip, and his rolled onto his front. He kept a careful distance between them, knowing from experience just how deadly her knee was and not wanting to give her a reason to use it.

_I'll never be able to sleep,_ she thought, just as a wave of tiredness swept her away.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

The squeal of dry hinges woke her. She stared around the dark, stuffy little room in confusion until the details of her job came back to her in a rush. Her eyes felt dry and gritty and her head ached like she had a killer hangover. Carefully, she reached over and felt the bed, frowning in worry when she realised she was the only one in it. The sheets on Deeks' side were cool.

"Hon?" she called softly and slid out of the bed, grateful for her jeans as the cold night air chilled her skin. "David?"

A hurricane lamp flared to life in the corner, and even that gentle light had her stumbling back, one hand lifted to shade her eyes until they adjusted. She turned towards it, frowning. "David?"

"Ah, Ms. Hunter. Did I wake you?" Steele said. The words were cordial enough, but his tone made goosebumps break out over her skin.

"Where is my husband?" she demanded. The numbers on her watch glowed in the dim light. She glanced at it, realising that they'd only been asleep for about an hour. _No wonder I feel so damn groggy and thick headed, _she thought.

Steele stood up and it took everything in her not to back away. Instead, she straightened her hair and glared at him with anger fuelled by worry.

"I asked you a question!" she snapped.

Steele shrugged. "You'll see him soon enough," he said placidly and stuck out, catching her a glancing blow against the temple that staggered her. The blow opened a cut across her eyebrow.

She reeled backwards and recovered her balance, lifting one hand to swipe the blood from her eyes. A headache sprung to life behind her eyes and her lips tightened in pain. "What the hell is going on?" she snapped and scrambled sideways to keep out of his reach. Her heart pounded, skin flushing as adrenaline washed through her in a tingling wave.

He rushed at her rather than answering, surprisingly light on his feet for such a big man. The expression on his face didn't look remotely human. His mouth was fixed into a snarl that would have looked more at home on some wild beast.

Hindered by the blood running into her eyes, she hesitated for a split second before moving. Splinters of wood tore at her bare feet as she twisted, heading towards the table and the lamp it held, hoping that she could use it as a weapon.

The split second was all the time he needed to slam into her and knock her to the floor. Her head hit the hard wood with a nasty crack that left stars dancing across her blurring sight. The air in her lungs left in a rush.

He straddled her, pinning her to the floor with his weight. One large hand crept under the waistband of her jeans, while the other wrapped firmly around her throat. He leaned so close to her that she could feel his warm breath on her cheek.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy this," he murmured.

A wave of ice cold fear shot through her. Harsh breaths rasped from her throat as she stared up at him, seeing two of him. She lifted one hand to claw at his face, struggling to get from under him. Her nails raked across his cheek before he grunted and slammed her arms against the rough floor. The impact tore a pained grunt from her lips.

His weight barely shifted as she bucked her hips, trying to throw him off. All she managed to do was scrape the bottom of her back against the floor. Her lungs burned with the need to take a full breath. Vivid red sports danced across her eyes before his hand abruptly loosened.

"Ah ah," he chided, and brushed the back of his fingers over her cheek. "Don't you even think about passing out. I want you awake for this."

"Why are you doing this?" she gasped through a throat that felt like she'd swallowed knives.

He popped the button on her jeans and shrugged, one finger playing over the zip before he yanked that down, too. "Call it an initiation ritual, if you like."

The cold fear turned to ice in her gut. "Where is my husband?" she choked out and grimly tried to twist from under him again.

"Your husband is in very… safe hands," he said and laughed before dropping his mouth to her neck, licking the delicate skin over her pulse point with a wet, hot mouth. His teeth scraped over her skin before he bit down, making her gasp with pain.

She cringed away from him, then realised it put his ear in reach of her mouth. He screamed in pain when she bit down hard on the top of his ear, pulling her head back to do the most damage. Hot blood filled her mouth. She spat it at him when he yanked away from her.

"You bitch!" he yelled and tangled a hand in her hair, dragging her to her feet.

She rammed her knee into his crotch. He screamed again and doubled over, gasping for breath.

The door sprang open before she could press the advantage, filling the room with men. Something exploded against the bottom of her back and the world went dark around her.


	19. Chapter 19

Author's note-

Sorry for the long hiatus! I never meant to leave the updates for so long. Just needed to focus on my original work for a while, and this story kinda got away from me. Short chapter just to get me back into the story. The next one will be longer, I promise.

Lou

Chapter Nineteen

Deeks stared at the grainy picture on the small screen with mounting horror. Two guards flanked him, but he barely noticed them. The static filled images on the screen had all of his attention. _No, no, no, _his mind screamed as the screen showed Kensi reeling from another punch. Blood ran down her face from a cut about her eye, and from the way she held herself, he could tell that her right shoulder hurt.

"Why are you doing this?" he snarled, voice thick with anger. His hands clenched around the rough wooden arms of the chair he was bound tightly to, forcing splinters into his palms. "Damn it, answer me!"

Sabine grabbed his chin with one hand, pressing her nails into his skin hard enough to draw blood. "No-one said you could talk." There was a kind of madness in her eyes that scared him.

Fury washed through him in a burning wave. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay silent. His body shook against the chair with the force of his anger. An icy pit of fear gnawed at his stomach. It made perspiration bead his skin, rolling down his spine and making the thin fabric of his shirt cling to him.

The picture on the screen blurred into harsh static for a few long seconds. It cleared to show Kensi bound to a chair that was the twin of Deeks'. She glared at the screen, and despite himself, Deeks felt a surge of proud relief. _She__'__s okay. They haven__'__t hurt her too badly, _he thought.

Sabine wound a hand around his neck, stroking his cheek roughly. Her finger nails raked over his skin. "We're going to ask you some questions. Every time that I think you're lying to me, my lover will hurt your lovely wife. Do we understand each other?"

Deeks stayed silent, wary of a trap. Sabine smiled and tapped a button. Static crackled across the open intercom. "Darling, try not to hurt her pretty face too badly. There are people who'll pay good money for her."

Steele grinned into the camera and flexed his hand. "Whatever you say, my love."

He turned away and vanished from the shot for a second, reappearing in front of Kensi. She stared up at him with something like hate in her eyes.

The blonde man flinched as Steele struck Kensi in the stomach. His partner cried out hoarsely, doubling over as much as the tight rope binding her to the chair would allow. Her shouldered heaved as she struggled to take in a breath.

"Feeling more willing to talk, now Mr. Hunter?" Sabine asked and sat down across from him, crossing her legs. "Really, it's in your best interests to do as I say. We can keep this up all night. How long do you think your wife can hold out?"

Deeks tore his eyes away from the screen. "Why are you doing this?" he asked roughly. Hate burned through him.

"Why am I doing this?" Sabine laughed. "Because, Mr. Hunter, I can. Because it pleases me to do so." A hard edge crept into her voice as she continued. "Because the last new people who joined without being recruited turned out to be cops who wanted to destroy what I've worked so hard to build." She shrugged, "Take your pick, Mr. Hunter."

He risked a glance at Kensi, glad to see that she'd straightened in her seat. She caught him looking and blinked. Her lower lip was split and puffy, and she would have one hell of a black eye come morning. Her gaze was the worst though. It was filled with sad, quiet resignation that he didn't like one bit. It looked wrong on her, alien, and it send a chill through him.

Fear fluttered in his gut like a living thing. He licked dry lips and leaned forward a little bit. "What do you want to know?"


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Even as pain wracked her body, Kensi winced at the rasp in her partner's voice. The tinny buzz of the intercom system did little to disguise it. In fact, she hoped the intercom was making his voice sound worse than it was. It gave her something other than her own pains to concentrate on.

Steele's large hand closed on the back of her neck, wrenching a gasp for her. She hated the tiny sign of weakness even as she knew there was nothing she could have done to stop it. His fingers played over the bruises he'd put on her skin scant moment before.

Revulsion to his touch filled her and made her stomach churn. The sour taste of bile touched the back of her throat. She swallowed it back painfully and fought not to shudder as Steele's hands roamed over her body. They linger on her jeans button long enough to send a pulse of terror through her, then move on, tracing every single bruise on her body.

"Your husband can weave a pretty tale," he whispered close to her ear. His breath brushed moist across her skin. "But then, that's lawyers for you. All filled with pretty little speeches and not much else."

A drop of blood trickled down her cheek, leaving a sticky trail in its path. He wiped it away with one finger, smearing it over her skin. She kept her eyes fixed on a knot in the wood floor, letting her peripheral vision keep track of the guards around her.

They're armed, alert and well trained. _I can take them, if I can get free, _she thought. With the fear and the anger churning inside of her, it would be so easy to take it out on them. The thin thread of pained exhaustion in Deeks' voice clawed at her like a living thing. It made her want to move. It made her want to take out the guards, find her partner and not stop running until both of them have left this hellhole far, far behind.

One of the guards glanced at her. She kept her head bowed, letting them think they had won. Letting them think they had beaten the fight out of her when all they'd really done is woken up the old, slow burning anger in her gut. It's been inside of her since her father's murder, and it's been growing. It's been getting hungry.

"What are you thinking, my pretty?" Steele asked and tilted her chin back with one thick finger. His thumb brushed across her lips and it took all of her self control not to bite down on it and repay him just a little bit of the pain he'd dished out.

The light stabbed painfully into her eyes. She didn't even try to hide the wince. If anything, she exaggerated it, hoping to lull them into a false sense of security. _Let the bastards think they__'__ve beat me,_ she thought viciously, _then when they__'__re off guard, I can surprise them. _

Steele pouted and turned to look at the camera. "I think we've broken her for you, Mr. Hunter."

Deeks paused in the middle of a word, voice catching before hurrying on. Kensi bit the inside of her lip to stop herself looking at him. _Sorry, Deeks, _she thought and winced at what she was doing to him. A tear fell from her bruised eye and trailed down her cheek. It felt flame hot against her skin.

"Take them back to the city," Sabine said sharply. "This one's too stupid to make up a complicated lie, and the cops wouldn't send someone as soft as her to raid us." Disgust laced her voice. The sound of a slap echoed over the intercom, making Kensi flinch. "Get them out of my sight before I decide to off them just on principle."

Steele untied the ropes around Kensi's wrists and ankles and hauled her to her feet. Pins and needles rushed through her legs, making her stumble. Only Steele's death grip on her arm keeps her on her feet. The ropes had left her wrists chaffed and bleeding.

The shorter guard opened the door. Fresh air flooded into the room. It felt wonderful after the staleness of the room she'd been locked in.

Another door opened in the hut across from them. Deeks stumbled out. His arms were bound tightly behind his back, and there was blood on his lip and matting his hair to his forehead.

"Honey," he rasped. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" His eyes flickered over her body, taking in the blood, bruises and scrapes.

She pressed her lips together and nodded. "I'll be fine." Her voice came out sounding choked.

Steele yanked her arm, almost making her fall. "Who said that you could talk?" he snapped and shoved her towards a waiting jeep.

Deeks opened his mouth to protest, then closed it without saying a word. He looked pale under his tan. He was shaking, but she couldn't tell if it was from the chilly air, anger or fear. She met his eyes and gave him a tiny nod. His shoulders slumped a little bit before he nodded back.

_So there is a road in to the camp,_ she thought as she stumbled towards the dark green vehicle. _Good. Maybe we can bring a tank in and just flatten the place and just be done with it. _

Rough cloth touched her face and she jerked away from it, biting back a hiss of pain. Her injuries had started to stiffen and the chilly night air was making them throb in time to her heartbeat. The blood in her hair and on her skin felt sticky.

The blindfold tightened over her eyes. Steele had caught some of her hair in the knot, and the strands pulled painfully as she turned her head. "What's going on?" she asked and didn't even have time to brace herself before a blow to the side of her head knocked her out.


End file.
